Suspense

"Look, Amiel," my mother had me looking at a boxed present. She had a bright smile on her lips while my father gave her the go signal from the driver's seat.

I was giddy, of course.

It wasn't my birthday, and the box looked mysterious enough to pique my interest.

My mother handed it to me.

I didn't ask what it was and immediately opened it.

Inside, a beautiful pendant of a phoenix with its wings spread, ready to soar, sat. The beautiful colors of red and orange were carefully painted on it. The details of its feathers to its eyes left me in awe.

"It's pretty," I murmured.

My parents squeezed each other's hands, pleased as they watched me cradle the gift lovingly.

"Whenever you are having a tough time, Ames, that phoenix will remind you that we're always by your side," my father's voice echoed in my head. "Though you may stumble, you can rise again, stronger and benevolent."

I opened my eyes with a heavy heart.

Tears sprung to my eyes.

I couldn't stop them from falling even if I wanted to.

That memory was dear to me.

It was the last gift I received from them before the so-called accident.

Sirens wailed in the distance that night. But I knew my parents were dead before help came.

They took their last breath together, leaving me all alone.

I wiped away the tears and sat up. The digital clock on the bedside table showed it was two in the morning.

My head felt heavy, and I wished I could fall back asleep quickly. However, I have an ongoing curse when it comes to instantly dozing off.

It never happens.

The rare times it did was those moments when I cried so hard that I fell asleep. And if I was dead tired, too exhausted to move a muscle, my eyes demand to close upon hitting the pillow.

On regular days, I needed to read a book or watch for sleep to come to me. If neither of those worked, instrumental music would do the trick.

If I was desperate, a pill was the last resort.

I didn't want to force myself to sleep.

I'd hate to wake up with another heavy feeling clogging my throat. It made me want to scream and scream until my tonsils hurt and I would lose my voice.

Inflicting harm to myself was sometimes an escape I gladly took. That way, I couldn't think about the emotional pain and forget the sad parts of my life. My mind would focus on the physical torture and want it addressed as soon as possible.

Helping myself get out of bed, I grabbed my phone and turned it on. I might as well get to reading Wizardo's spam messages.

Grabbing a glass of water, I sat in the kitchen, listening to the messages popping. I smirked, looking at the phone's screen.

Wizardo's nickname on my phone kept on appearing. He must have sent a dozen messages when I didn't respond.

Tentatively sipping from the glass of water, an unlisted number appeared between Wizardo's mad emoji spam.

I grabbed my phone and immediately checked who it was from.

"Oh," I stared at the message. "My. God."

–

Rory didn't come to work the next day.

It was a big surprise as he had never skipped a day. He would often swoon whenever Herme came over, which was his daily vitamin.

But today, he called in sick.

I was initially alarmed, of course, but he made a terrible joke and told me I owed him a coffee date once he got back.

There was a big emphasis on the date.

"It's a friendly one. Don't you dare put another meaning to it," and then he hung up.

There were some coughing and someone's voice in the background. I didn't give it a thought, though.

Unlike Rory, I'm not a nosy one unless it was part of my job.

Rory wasn't on my list.

I hope he never becomes part of it. Ever.

Or that would undoubtedly make me curse being an assassin for life.

It was a typical day at the library. And I was yawning, the lack of sleep catching up to me.

I should feel guilty about this later, but I'll cross that bridge when it happens. I drummed my fingers on the desk, staring at the clock that ticked slowly.

The minutes before the day was over was taking so long to come. I refuse to ponder on the dream I had last night.

But I had wanted to see that phoenix necklace again.

Among the things I sold and donated to several hospitals and charities, I left a few of my mother's jewelry pieces and the phoenix pendant.

Seven hid them for me in a vault that needed my fingerprint to open.

I was grateful for the safekeeping. But I somehow regretted not hiding the phoenix separately.

Biting my lower lip, I let out a tired sigh.

Thoughts about that necklace distracted me. I didn't see the person coming in.

"Welcome to the public lib—"

Seeing Jace's constant smirk as he strolled in, I cut off the greeting.

Sometimes, I remember to be polite and utter the memorized spiel. But most days, I just waited for the people to approach the desk and offer help.

Heat burned my cheeks as I realized how timely for me to pick this moment to say that line. The person receiving it found it amusing.

"Are you stalking me?"

Jace chuckled at my claim. He dropped a lunch box on the desk, nodded at it, and pocketed his hands after.

"The old man wanted you to have that. He felt indebted to you after he learned that you made a deal with those bastards."

I looked at him and scoffed.

"You shouldn't have. I was trying to stay anonymous."

Jace clicked his tongue.

"I never said I was the one who told him."

"If not you, then who did?"

Jace shrugged. He tapped the table and turned to leave.

"That's all I came here for."

He waved without looking back.

I was feeling annoyed all of a sudden. He was reminding me so much of Wizardo.

Remembering the text from last night, I gasped.

"Wait!" I called out, but Jace was already gone. "Dammit!"